AdventShadow
He gave a curt nod and took the card out. The holographic display on its face read 250 credits. Not a bad pay for such a trivial job. With the card safely tucked away inside his pant leg, he turned toward the door, a gloved hand already coiled around the brass knob. "I expect great things from you, young man." Not sure what else to say, he gave a curt nod and slipped through the half open door. The familiarity of a sharp point puncturing his skin reminded him to be on his watch. He wrapped the bandana around his mouth and set off down the dimly lit street. It was there he got his next contract. A man in a long trench coat approached him, surrounded in a haze of smoke. The hunter couldn't make out his face, only the object in his slim fingers giving any sort of clues as to the mysterious figure's identity. He was handed a paper and the man walked away, the smoke trailing behind him dissipating into the air as a distant memory. The hunter looked down at the paper crumpled in his fist. In tiny black letters scrawled across the top laid the most dangerous task of the man's life: Evokex He chuckled and tucked the note into his back pocket. This was going to be interesting. The weapon was beautiful. It had just had service done to it, the sleek black metal a glossy coat of perfection, the lens as clear as day - not a scratch on the glass, the immaculate epitome of perfection. And also a painful reminder of the task at hand. His eyes scrunched up as he ran his fingers along the cool black metal, rested his hands on the trigger - touching, not feeling. Planning, not thinking. He wrapped his fingers around the gun and lifted it up out of the case, familiarizing himself with every crack, every crevice, every nook and cranny of the weapon. There was work to be done. Quickening pace, he ducked behind an old dumpster to recollect his senses. Evokex. The scrawled piece of paper said it all. He had his target. The mask wrapped tightly around his face, he set off down the dimly lit avenue , the only thing on his mind the blood accentuating through his already energized veins. He stepped onto the rooftop, put his sniper in position. Tracing his hand across the bridge of his nose where a light indentation had been made. He shook his head. Never again. It was all routine to him now. Hand on the stand, hand on the trigger and scan for a target. The circle with that little green plus sign in the middle was the arbiter of life or death for these soul-ridden businessmen and officials who made it their life's work to widen the schism separating the poor and helpless from the wealthy and self-sustaining - a never-ending barrier between glass buildings and lopsided tents, fires lit on oil canisters and fires produced on shimmering rocks. He closed his eyes, felt the tension on the trigger, the sweat coating his finger. The plus sign was in place, preparing its victim - a clean-shaven man with a briefcase and a Rolex watch that reeked of wealthiness, the foulest stench - for a interminable vacation with the reaper. And then, he fired. People screaming, turning to run. The beautiful destruction of orange and black embers spewing upwards amidst all the chaos. He could see the man, buried underneath the pit-pat of leather shoes, a translucent statement to the iron grip of the monolith. He cracked a smile, the first one in a while, before he faded to blackness, captured by the widening tendrils of oblivion, only managing to recollect a few certain facts. His name was AdventShadow. He had made an impact. He would soon be remembered. And he would soon be forgotten. It was then, his fingers curled around a thin paper roll he didn't have any connection with, that he faded into the awaiting chasm of oblivion.